Situations with Chris Evans (and characters)!
[ CHRISEVANSXFEM!READER SMUT/FLUFF ]
* mild language and explicit depictions of sexuality (other trigger warnings stated at the beginning of the chapter). 18+ or else...
requests are [open but no guaran...
A/N: snowpiercer chris makes me feel things so curtis everett vibes without explicitly writing about curtis everett. it'll make sense. Summary: Steve develops a hearty bloodlust for an angel. 2.1k words Warnings: meanie words, idkwtf like animal play but not in a big way but kinda, dub con bordering on non con even tho consent is so fucking sexy ooomg, smut 18+ pls, biting, gore (bruising, semi graphic descriptions), breeding kink if ya squint
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It was easy enough for him to keep his hands off you on the battlefield. Fighting wars waged by power hungry men in pursuit of what they have never been offered was distraction enough from you. The desire to deserve such a priceless thing was too good to resist forever though. The second you peeled the skin tight leather from your exhausted limbs, Steve was on you like a starved lion on an impala.
And he hates when you plead abstinence for the hell of it. Flitting around and denying his willful urges with a bat of your lashes. You drive him to insanity until he's drunk on lust and itching like a junkie.
Steve's had it up to here with the little games you play, so he drapes you around him and drags you to your room, remorseless in his actions and the way his grip sears your skin with deep bruising. Of course, he was already on edge before you settled onto his lap in the quinjet. Even more so when you got overly chatty with the field agent with a strong jaw all while wiggling on his thighs every so often.
Irresistible, you sit nice and pretty in a bullet proof vest and clingy pants that twist with the sinew of your thighs and hips. His hands roam free, tripping on your skin like nobody's business and finding the dips of muscle that sort of mimic his own in all your divine glory.
You can't tell him you didn't know what you were doing to his libido because Lord knows lying will do you no good. Pushing isn't worth it when he pulls twice as hard. Then you wonder how difficult it must be for your blue eyed golden boy to uphold such a reputation when his dick is harder than a rock the second he's left alone with you.
"Grant, you are a selfish, greedy man, and I want nothing to do with you."
He tugs you close at the way his middle name curdles on the tip of your tongue. Oh, you're angry now, aren't you. And so he pouts, baby blues twinkling in the dim light of his bedroom at dusk, brows knotted together in mock guilt. A cat never understands why you scold him for dropping a limp bird at your door. But he cries all the same.
"Don't say that, little bunny. It hurts me."
"Sticks and goddamn stones. You deserve a little hurt right now." His strong fingers coil around your bones, tightening into your biceps to yank you closer like nothing.
"Take it back." And you scoff and squint up at him and bare your teeth, so he bends closer and licks at your bottom lip with a smirk and— "Now, bunny"
This playful competition strips you down to flesh and blood right under his claws. You're vulnerable with one blink, but you ignore it like you're a god. And he despises it. He resents you for the way you seem so impervious to his wants, his needs. But he likes it when you keep his cock warm, so he lets you stick around a while longer. It's all relative, though. A while longer may as well be an eternity the way you see it. The way he's blind to it.
